What Could Yet Be
by Darlin
Summary: Storm's sunbathing unaware that she's being watched by Wolverine & Gambit.


What Could Yet Be - By Darlin  
  
Disclaimer - Of course we all realize Marvel is the owner of the exceptionally wonderful X-Men and I do not own them.  
  
A/N - This was intended as a one shot but I've been thinking about adding a second chapter down the road. I'll just have to wait and see a bit. 10/3/03 - :Darlin  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ororo Munroe was lying upon a grassy bank by the lake on the mansion grounds wearing nothing but a pair of sunglasses. She was reveling in the warmth of the hot sun, enjoying a peaceful afternoon. A smile was on her lips as she looked up into the sunglasses-green tinted sky. Fluffy clouds were moving lazily overhead and several birds darted through the sky swift and silent. She sighed through her smile as she enjoyed the immense sense of freedom and peace.  
  
Not far from Ororo and unbeknownst to her, two men were quietly watching her. One lay on the ground in the bushes his alert eyes missing nothing; the other was perched on the roof of the mansion observing her through binoculars. Peeping Toms one could say but what no one knew could not hurt them or so they each thought.  
  
Remy LeBeau put his binoculars down, and wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. He sighed heavily then picked up the binoculars again. He knew he shouldn't be spying on his friend but he found he could not stop himself. He knew he should feel guilty for harboring feelings for his best friend but he didn't. He was in love with Rogue, a woman whom he could never touch, never kiss or make love to. Perhaps that's why he wanted Ororo, wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone, even Rogue.  
  
While he knew he could never have Rogue, could never consummate his love with her he knew Ororo was just a hairs breath away. He had touched her soft golden brown skin many times before. He could never forget her exquisite softness along with the light fresh scent of rain and earth that was Ororo Munroe. He longed to taste the salty sweetness that he knew would be just between her breast and at her throat, the sweat glistening and beckoning. No gloves. No fear. Just drink in her softness and warmth. He wanted Ororo and he knew he could never have her, he would never touch her. She thought of him only as a brother.  
  
The tall grass barely hid a short well-built man who looked as wild as a mountain man of old. Dark and handsome yet fierce and dangerous. Logan, the Wolverine. He watched his friend, as she lay in the sun completely naked and totally unashamed. He could sense her enjoyment of the earth below her and the sun above. He could smell the pure exhilaration that she was experiencing, much like his own joy when he ran naked through the woods on the grounds.  
  
He knew she was free from all cares and worries, nothing on her mind but enjoying the feel and sounds of the world around her. He knew that he alone could understand why she was there. Others might think she was simply sunbathing rather than realizing she was reveling in the sheer beauty of nature, seeking solace and finding peace. It was rare to see another being know and appreciate how to be one with nature feeling no fear, no shame only an incredible peace and wholeness. He felt a strong desire to go to her, to lay with her. To take his clothes off and feel the heat of the sun soak into his own bones. To touch her, feel her warmth, hold her. He wanted to be with her for he felt she alone would understand him. Yet he did not go to her. Could not go to her. Would never go to her. She thought of him only as a dear friend, nothing more.  
  
Ororo smiled as she turned over to let her backside enjoy the intense heat of the sun. She couldn't help but sigh again. A sigh full of pleasurable bliss. She delighted in the feel of the grass beneath her, the damp soil and the gentle wind caressing her body. She felt as if she had stolen a little piece of heaven. If she concentrated hard enough she could block out all her worries and fears. There were no enemies, no prejudices, no problems. She didn't have to think about Remy who was not happy despite his deep love for Rogue or Logan who was restless and lonely, understood by no one at the mansion. She didn't have to think of past loves or new desires. She could let herself go, float. She smiled again, turned over again, feeling herself drifting off.  
  
She twisted slightly, her hand reaching beneath her, her hips thrust into the air. Fumbling on the ground she found a small twig beneath her and tossed it aside. Settling back down her hand fell to her chest then slowly slid down to her taut stomach and rested just past her navel. Her other hand repeated the pattern and she sighed once more, her hands falling to her sides. Again she felt herself drifting. Her head fell to one side and she closed her eyes. A muffled footstep crushing dry grass warned her that she was not alone. Yet she did not move or cover herself as the intruder approached. She simply watched him as he came towards her, his step slow and halting. She had thought she would always love him and yet as she watched him she knew there were no lingering feelings, only that of pity. She pitied him.  
  
Forge stopped some twenty feet from Ororo Munroe. He drank in the breathtaking beauty of the woman he had once asked to marry him and had left without waiting for her answer. He still loved her, still wanted her. He felt himself fill with desire as he gazed upon her. He had forgotten that she was so beautiful, so desirable. Or was it just his loneliness, his own admission of the foolish mistake he'd made with Mystique? He thought he had known Ororo better than anyone else and he knew she would never have chosen him over the X-Men yet he often wondered had he been wrong? He had been jealous of Remy and at times he had been jealous of all the men that made up the uncanny band of X-Men. He knew, as a man knew, that they had all at one time or another lusted after this woman who owned his heart. And she had truly owned him heart and soul, possibly even now for why had he returned?  
  
Forge looked at his reflection in her mirrored sunglasses and wondered if she knew he was there. She had turned, had moved. He'd seen her as he'd approached yet now she appeared to be sound asleep, her chest moving slowly up then down causing him to lose his train of thought. He fought with himself then, with his lust, with his heart, with his brain, which told him he was foolish. She did not, had not, could not ever love him as he had loved her. She was a goddess, an X-Man. She needed no one, would let no one in. She had chosen long ago and she wasn't even aware of her choice. No man could compete with her cause, her love for Charles Xavier's dream. The dream of freedom and equality, her love for the X-Men.  
  
Ororo Munroe watched Forge as he turned and walked away, favoring his good leg. He was larger than she remembered him to be. Still handsome, still desirable but still uncertain and selfish. She hated to think of him as that but there he was, not having seen her in so many years and he had turned his back to her and walked away. Nothing had changed with him. There was no loss there. She turned her head to the sky and watched the green tinted clearness of the infinite expanse. She had almost wished he had stayed. She was lonely. She needed someone. Someone who would understand her and yet let her remain herself. She supposed there was no one who would ever understand her, who would ever come to her, as she lay nude upon a grassy knoll sunbathing and waiting. Not Logan, not Remy and certainly never Forge.  
  
She dreamt that a shadow, wide and dark, had cast a cooling shade over her and then she was joined in her little piece of heaven. He lay beside her his body so close to hers she could feel the coarse hair on his arm and the heat of his body. He said not a word as his strong hand clasped hers. She laid there, her hand locked in his, her eyes shut tight as if to block out all reality. She felt safe, at peace. His hand gently squeezed hers and she wondered if he would kiss her. She did not dare open her eyes for fear that her dream would disintegrate-poof and there would be nothing but her, alone in the dampness of the evening. Dream or reality? And if it was only a dream would he one day, in the full wakefulness of the day, join her? Could he ever bring himself to? 


End file.
